Clarion Hall, larger and far more sumptuous, would welcome her, but only if the earl could hire a companion, it being a bachelor residence. Others questioned the added expense. It had become clear to Fanny that the estate and its manor may look opulent, but the estate’s finances truly were dismal, and Eli had the job of squeezing funds for expenses out of the shriveled accounts.
Old Mr. Benson reassured Fanny that she and the ducklings were welcome at the Willow as long as they needed to stay. She wouldn’t, he told her, be the first more-or-less permanent resident.
Emma Corbin spoke confidentially, “Willowbrook, the Willow, the hall—they’re all someone else’s homes. You want a place of your own. In town is best, near neighbors, not in some poky cottage miles from everywhere. Eli will work it out.”
“What about the dower house?” Brynn Morgan, Maddy’s husband, put in. “Now that we have our own country house, it sits empty. I know Eli has recommended that Clarion put it out to rent, but it’s an option.” He ended on a shrug.
Fanny cleared her throat to remind the earl of her ideas about a quiet life in a place of her own, which she had shared with him at the Willow the first night of this visit. He’d assured her she would have assistance, but his noncommittal responses had not been comforting. He expected Eli to arrange what was “possible.”
It certainly appeared all suggestions led back to Eli Benson to sort out, but Fanny hadn’t had one private moment with the wretch since he’d arrived two days before. She feared that he avoided her. She glared at him where he sat in the middle of the table, halfway between the earl and Rob, keeping his opinions to himself and studiously attacking his dinner. The man did like to eat, but the uncharacteristic silence irritated her.
“What about London?” Maddy’s question brought the table to a silent halt. All eyes shifted to her now. “If we’re all intent on giving her choices, she should explore the city. Experience society,” Maddy said.
The earl shook his head but said little as the footman entered, carrying a tray of cakes and macaroons.
“London, Maddy, seriously?” the earl asked dubiously, once serving was complete and he’d dismissed the servants.
Rob appeared equally conflicted, but Lucy nodded.
“Why not London? She can always come back to Ashmead,” Lucy said. “Three of us have houses there. I don’t think Maddy means a Season precisely.”
A Season? Presentation at court for an earl’s bastard daughter? The very thought threatened to give Fanny palpitations.
Maddy shrugged noncommittally.
“Of course not,” Clarion said. “And society is thin in the summer.”
“True,” Maddy said, “but the shopping is good, and the children would benefit from exploring the capital.”
“Marj would be wild to show Amy the Tower,” Lucy said, laughing. “Don’t you agree, Eli?”
Eli said nothing.
“For a visit, maybe,” Rob said, pensive. Fanny suspected he had something on his mind that had little to do with her housing problems.
“Perhaps, but it doesn’t solve the larger issues,” Clarion argued.
Fanny had had enough. “Please. I know you all mean well, and I appreciate it more than I can say, but I’m—” She faltered on the end.
Eli looked up from the macaroon he had dipped in liqueur, set down the dessert, and cleared his throat as if about to speak.
Fanny spoke first. “Everything you’ve said seems to come back to Eli Benson. He’s also the one who knows the most about our situation in Manchester.” She glanced at Rob before peering pointedly at Eli. “Our business and financial situation. I need a private meeting with him. Until I know what is possible, I can’t make a decision.”
He smiled then, a gentle lift of his lips, one that said he understood. “I would be honored.” Their eyes held, and Fanny’s heart soared. Eli Benson had never failed her. The more she heard, the more she realized the people around the table all depended on him. Everything she had learned—and some profound instinct she barely understood—told her to trust him. Eli would know how to create a life for her and the children. Eli would manage it.
